


til no space lies in between

by voidslantern



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alpha!Keith, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Explicit Language, Fluff, M/M, Omega!Shiro, One Shot, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, SHEITH - Freeform, Sheith Secret Santa 2018, mention of Ulaz/Thace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-26 06:07:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17136392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/voidslantern/pseuds/voidslantern
Summary: "Nothing makes Keith more miserable than winter weather and Shiro well knows that, yet he still takes him along on a mission that leads the two all the way into the mountains, where snow is as permanent an occurrence as sand is in the desert Keith grew up in. Shiro has given Keith his blanket to use as a second cloak but he’s still freezing, his horse trailing behind Shiro’s black stallion as they climb the path along the Balmera’s Spine.“The pass should be a quintant’s journey from here,” Shiro says cheerfully as he notices a landmark stone Keith would have missed without him since it’s just a boulder like any other, the markings almost faded in the unforgiving conditions.“It better be,” Keith mutters, wrapping the warm blanket tighter around himself and nuzzling a little into its wool, Shiro’s scent still lingering on it."_______________________A Sheith Secret Santa gift to Tei ♥ Hope you enjoy & have wonderful holidays!





	til no space lies in between

**Author's Note:**

> title & fic inspired by Sleeping At Last's song "Venus"

Nothing makes Keith more miserable than winter weather and Shiro well knows that, yet he still takes him along on a mission that leads the two all the way into the mountains, where snow is as permanent an occurrence as sand is in the desert Keith grew up in. Shiro has given Keith his blanket to use as a second cloak but he’s still freezing, his horse trailing behind Shiro’s black stallion as they climb the path along the Balmera’s Spine.

“The pass should be a quintant’s journey from here,” Shiro says cheerfully as he notices a landmark stone Keith would have missed without him since it’s just a boulder like any other, the markings almost faded in the unforgiving conditions.

“It better be,” Keith mutters, wrapping the warm blanket tighter around himself and nuzzling a little into its wool, Shiro’s scent still lingering on it.

Shiro laughs, “C’mon, icicle, we still need to cover quite a distance to remain on the schedule.”

“Right. The schedule,” Keith grunts out and spurs his chestnut mustang gently to catch up with Shiro.

It has taken quite some time to train Yorak, especially since his spirit is as wild as the free-roaming herd he has been born into. Once his injuries after the Galra attack have healed and he’d warmed up to Keith, he’s turned out to be an absolute delight, cheeky and stubborn at times. Black has taken some time to accept a new friend but now the two stallions are nothing short of best buddies, much to Shiro’s and Keith’s happiness.

Even now, Yorak goes to playfully nibble at Black, only prompting the horse to snicker and retaliate in kind. Shiro snorts and pats Black’s massive neck. “Easy there, boy.”

They ride in silence for a while, and Keith relaxes in his saddle, watching the tundra they have been travelling through for the last couple of quintants give way to the mountains in the Balmera’s Spine.

The Kingdom of Altea is vast and full of beautiful fields and rolling hills, and in spring these lands bloom in their full, crystalline power. Reluctantly, Keith admits that the sights opening before him from so high up are breathtaking, though Keith would trade a view like that to get back to the Castle of Lions’ warmth and green gardens surrounding it at any moment.

Nature has barely broken free of winter’s icy clutches down there, but up in the mountains – and this far to the north -- it’s still ass-bitingly cold. Shiro, on the other hand, doesn’t mind the cold at all – he’s lively and fresh, his eyes gleaming in the crisply-sharp sunlight.

Keith forces himself to look away.

“Keith?” Shiro asks after a while, his lips quirking at the corners with that peculiar little smile Shiro saves up for Keith only. At least, he likes to think it’s only for him. Usually, Shiro’s smiles are polite and calculated when necessary, though broad and sincere when he’s amongst their little found family. The softness of the one Shiro is smiling right now? It makes Keith’s heart flutter in his chest.

“Yeah?” Keith replies, his horse trotting up closer to Black.

“Do you think it was a right decision to leave Princess Allura and go on this mission?” Shiro asks, suddenly so serious. Keith frowns briefly, wondering why would he ask this when they are already set out on the journey.

“Of course it was. It’s not like she’s all alone at the Castle,” Keith says carefully, taking his time to pick the right words. “Pidge, Hunk, and Lance are going to keep her safe, Shiro.”

“I know,” he says. “It still doesn’t sit right with me to leave her side. To leave our team vulnerable like that. The Galra attacks are becoming more violent, and closer and closer to our borders. How long until they breach them? How long until they send assassins into the Castle?”

“Shiro,” Keith pulls at the reins sharply and he does the same, staring at Keith with confusion and worry in his features. The wind picks up, playing with Shiro’s pitch black hair, the white of his forelock so stark against it.

Shiro keeps his hair military-short now, and Keith misses the way how long it used to be before Shiro’s capture. He could spend vargas braiding it elaborately, adding beads and purple ribbons on important occasions. It was their little thing, a way for Keith to show his affection and gratitude and loyalty to the man who has done so much for him. He always knew Shiro appreciated the gesture just as much, and he’s never let anyone else touch his hair but Keith. Not even their Princess.

Now, though, things are different. Shiro claims of demons lurking underneath his skin and avoids being touched the way he had been before the deca-phoeb spent in the Galran captivity. Even Shiro's most primal instincts have been twisted and turned around – the Galra have forced the heat-reducing potions so strong down Shiro's throat it's been more than two deca-phoebs since his return and there still has been not a single hint of a heat in him, until it has been finally announced by the healers that there’s nothing they can do to bring the heats back. It not like being free of the primal need is something that would upset Shiro much, yet often Keith catches Shiro visibly recoiling at the sight of bonded couples, something like regret and longing flashing across Shiro’s features before in a blink the vulnerability is gone again.

It’s not the only concern, though. Those demons, those bad memories hidden in Shiro’s mind – those take from him, chip away bit by bit at Shiro’s strength. There are quintants when nothing, not even Shiro’s own willpower, helps to fend off the anxiety and the flashbacks. Shiro leaves on those quintants, excusing himself when he can’t keep up with his duties to the court. The other Paladins would always take his place, would always present a united team, back to back, for Shiro. They all know how much it means to Shiro, and all four would do anything to make him better, to help him heal.

Those demons, often violent, often plain terrifying, do not scare Keith away, though. He is always there by Shiro’s side to help, to guide him towards the light and joy he truly, undoubtedly deserves. The amount of nights he’s sat on the floor together with him, just talking quietly, holding his flesh hand while Shiro works through the resurfacing memories or fights off the most painful flashbacks, is enough to raise suspicions on the nature of the relationship between the leader of Voltron and his right hand, but neither cares.

Sometimes, Keith isn’t sure he is enough, but he’s never giving up on Shiro, and slowly, ever so slightly, with the endless support and understanding of their team and family, Shiro begins to heal. It’s hesitant, it’s a fight every quintant, but he’s healing, and Keith’s heart sings at every little hint that Shiro’s no longer spiralling down the void and finally, there are stars winking back to life in his sky.

“We're stronger together, that's true,” Keith says, his voice ringing through the cold air. “It doesn't mean, however, that we're bound to fail if separated. Lance, Pidge, and Hunk are accomplished, true Paladins of Voltron and they make a great team together on their own. Just like you and I do.”

Shiro is still frowning, unease evident in the tense set of his broad, armour-clad shoulders, the black fur of his cloak accenting Shiro's sharp, handsome features.

“I know you're right, Keith. I just—I just have a bad feeling about this.”

Keith reaches out to Shiro, his hand clasping Shiro's flesh forearm. The prosthetic in place of the hand he's lost to the Galra is hidden under Shiro's cloak – even if it is the pinnacle of Altean alchemy, completely functional and fail-safe, its runes still shine softly in the golden light of the magic that fuels it. No one minds the glow, not even Shiro, yet he still prefers not to flash it around too much, conscious of the unwanted attention it might attract out here on the edges of the Altean borders.

Shiro is surprisingly warm under Keith's palm, and he shivers with the strange tingling that runs up from his fingers all the way up and down his spine and settles firmly in his belly. Shiro’s eyes are wide and he stares at Keith with his lips parted slightly, though Keith forces himself to get over the need to claim those pink, full lips all to himself and tries to collect his thoughts and to return to what he wanted to say instead.

“Allura is safe,” Keith repeats firmly. “Lance and the others are keeping her safe. And nothing is going to happen to _us_ , as well. The Blades of Marmora have sent the invitation to form an alliance – to unite against Zarkon. They’ve committed to it enough already – Thace has saved our asses numerous times, and all of his and Ulaz’s intel has checked out. For once, things are looking up for us. For Altea.”

_You're back. You're safe. All will be fine now._

It stays unspoken, but Keith gives him a reassuring squeeze and Shiro closes his eyes briefly, as if understanding what he means. Black shifts under Shiro, impatient to keep going. When Shiro opens his eyes again, the grey in them is stormy warm, like rain-heavy clouds in summer, the black lashes curved prettily at the ends.

Keith's heart is so full of affection he's ready to burst with it, ready to do something foolish, reckless, only to cover that distance that separates them and be with him, lips on lips, heart to heart, soul to soul.

“Thank you, Keith,” Shiro smiles softly again.

 

* * *

 

By the evening the previously clear skies begin to cover with light, cotton clouds. The setting sun colours them in beautiful pinks and oranges, and Keith’s gaze is mostly trained on the sunset rather on the narrowing road before him. When his belly rumbles with hunger for the second time, he sighs and asks if they could make a stop to eat properly, and Shiro goes as far as to suggest they camp for the night, instead.

It takes a while to find a proper spot for a camp but when they finally do, it’s a little alcove in the mountain wall, not deep enough to be called a cave but it shields from the cold wind just fine. After unsaddling and feeding the horses, Keith is so eager for the dinner he practically wolfs it down while it’s still hot, unbothered by Shiro having messed up with the spices again. Shiro watches him with his brow quirked in amusement, until Keith finally snaps.

“What?”

“If you were this hungry, why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

Keith chews on the over-salted meat for a moment and swallows, wiping his mouth. “Didn’t want to mess up the schedule.”

Shiro snorts. “The schedule means nothing if you’re weakened by hunger, Keith.”

Keith only shrugs. The Blade’s delegates, Ulaz and Thace, seemed to give an impression that getting to the Marmorite base is incredibly difficult, the entry spell opening only for a few short, specific moments. The closest portal gate to it is hidden in the Balmera’s Spine, and even with the map Ulaz has forced Shiro and Keith to memorise and then destroy they might never even find it, simply missing its scheduled opening.

“I just want this alliance to work,” he mutters and gets up to cast a few protective and concealment spells for the night. Shiro’s eyes are still trained on him, concern apparent in his expression and Keith sighs. “Is there something else, Shiro?”

“Do you think you’ll find something out about your mother there?” Shiro blurts out and Keith frowns, startled.

“That’s really not why I’m going.”

“But don’t you want to know?”

“I know who I am, Shiro,” Keith says after a brief pause. The dagger is heavy on his hip, the Blade of Marmora insignia glowing softly in the late evening dark that surrounds them. Finding out the origin of the dagger has been a shock, and decided to be kept within their group. Allura has had the hardest time accepting Keith as part-Galra but he has proven his loyalties enough times to quell any suspicions on where his heart lies. “Finding out more about where I come from won’t change that. If all goes well – yes, I will look into it, but it I’d rather focus on our mission than on the—personal stuff.”

“As you wish, Keith,” Shiro says, though the sharp gleam in his clever eyes is all a tell-tale that Shiro hasn’t let the topic slide. Fine. Keith can work with that.

Keith steps outside their little alcove, and can already feel the magic tingle at the ends of his fingertips, his blessing of being the Red Paladin of Voltron. All five Paladins have magic, a tool granted to them by the sacred duty of protecting the royal family of Altea, a blessing of Voltron itself. Shiro is the only one to have also bonded with his guardian entity, the Spirit of the Sky, thus only he has the title of the Lion of Voltron. He is unrivalled, undefeated, the most powerful being in Allura’s court – besides the Princess herself.

Keith knows now that the magic he has always had before he’s been accepted as a Paladin of Voltron is tied to his Galra blood – humans can’t have magic on their own. Still, having the Spirit of Fire for a guardian as a person who’s terrified of casting fire spells is only Keith’s kind of luck. There has been only one fire spell Keith has been able to cast in his life, an accident that has cost him his father’s life and the home he grew up in. It’s been nearly two decades since that night but Keith still can’t even light up a candle. Thankfully, no one questions him. He’s a good enough fighter and a mage on his own, without tapping into the full power of his guardian. Even now, it has been Shiro who’s built their campfire with a flick of his wrist and a sparkle that fell off his fingers onto the kindling and given life to the gentle fire that now keeps them warm and dry. Keith just sticks to using flints and matches.

Keith’s whole being locks in on Shiro coming over to stand by his side, his cloak left behind by the campfire.

“Shiro, what are you doing?” Keith asks, glaring at Shiro’s thin jacket and the undershirt – he has already discarded his armour for the night but hasn’t even bothered to grab a scarf or something to fend off the chill. “You’ll catch a cold, get back in there!”

He tries to push him back into the warmth, shoving him lightly on the chest but Shiro only laughs, quirking a thick brow at Keith’s failed attempts to get him to move. Keith pouts at that, giving Shiro the best of his glares, and returns to casting.

“Fine, freeze your ass off if you want.”

“Actually, it isn’t even that cold,” Shiro says as he inhales happily, his chest rising with the powerful breath he makes. His eyes skim over the view that opens before them, though eventually he looks up to the stars, beautiful constellations winking into life as the night claims the world.

“It’s so cold there’s literally a puff of vapour coming out of your mouth and nose,” Keith deadpans as he lays the guarding spells around their camp.

“Admit it, icicle, you just hate winter,” Shiro teases, giving Keith’s multiple layers of warm wear an appraising look.

“Well, there’s that... Still, it doesn’t mean you should go around half-naked in this weather.”

“Keith, it’s alright, I’m warm,” Shiro says, his fingers brushing Keith’s scarred cheek to prove his point. Keith’s skin tingles pleasantly afterwards, but the heat of Shiro’s fingers against his cheek is unmistakable, so he only snorts and shakes his head in reply.

Keith has thrown a quick cloak-and-repel over their camp when they have first stopped here, too hungry to think of anything else, and now Shiro chuckles as he raises his hands too and joins him in weaving the more complicated glyphs. Together, they make quick work of securing their campsite – to any possible traveller this alcove will look like a solid side of the mountain wall.

“That ought to do it,” Shiro finally says, the purple glow of his hands and eyes dissolving as he tunes down his magic. He’s the only Paladin to have his eyes glow like that – another little perk of also being a Lion. Keith finds it incredibly attractive on him, and even now Shiro catches Keith staring and his lips curl in a self-satisfied smirk as he gives Keith another once-over and stalks back to his spot by the fire.

It takes Keith a moment to gather himself and join Shiro, his heartbeat pumping in his ears until standing out in the open chill of the night grows too much for him. Keith flicks his braid out of the way and follows Shiro, content to brood over his feelings getting out of control for the rest of the night.

 

* * *

 

Keith has slept fitfully, his dreams plagued by shadows and wings and sharp claws, and the entirety of the morning he’s spent on high alert, looking out for dragons and wyverns until Shiro takes pity on him and casts a spell to check if there are any beasts and creatures around.

“Just a few ice wisps on our eleven. Oh, and an owl on our three,” Shiro says, his eyes glowing in purple again. “It’s surprisingly calm.”

“And I don’t like this,” Keith mutters. “These mountains are always full of life – sabre cats, mountain lions, bears... and that’s just the regular beasts. Where did the White Dragon fly off to? Where are the rock wyverns?”

“Probably hunting somewhere else,” Shiro shrugs, his horse trotting ahead of Keith. “There’s no prey around, either. Perhaps this winter was harsher up here.”

They have indeed seen more of animal remains than live beasts on their trip up the mountain road. Even the tundra down below is far merrier and full of life and spring and warmth. Keith sighs, shaking his head.

“Maybe there’s a greater hunter on the loose so they’re just in hiding.”

“Keith—Can you not with the pessimism?” Shiro turns in the saddle and makes a face at Keith, adorable and funny, and even if he knows Shiro is just teasing, Keith still pretends to be offended and sticks his tongue out at him, prompting Shiro to bend in two in laughter.

The mighty Paladins of Voltron, in all their glory.

 

* * *

 

Their ride goes smoothly and they even make it much farther than Shiro has initially planned. They find the mountain pass well before the noon, admiring the markings in the cave that cuts through in-between the two southernmost peaks in the Balmera’s Spine. Keith’s nostrils flare when he senses the protective spells cast at the entry point of the passage that skim deeper into the cave. Shiro throws him a glance, too, and the men lead their horses carefully through the icy passage, their breaths forming clouds before them.

“How is it colder here than it was outside?” Keith whines after a while, and even Shiro looks a little uncomfortable from the chill that bites down their limbs. It’s been a few vargas of walking through the pass, yet it’s still far away from the exit point – it will take a whole quintant to cross to the other side. Shiro’s flesh hand goes up to the hilt of his sword, a beautiful two-handed blade that he prefers to carry on his back, and in one smooth motion Shiro unsheathes it.

Keith goes taunt, too, suddenly aware of eyes watching them. He takes a deep breath, calling to his magic, to his connection to Voltron and to his fellow Paladin as he unsheathes his sword, too, his other hand sparkling with magic.

“Frost ghouls?” he whispers to Shiro.

“No. Bigger.”

Keith frowns at the steel in Shiro’s voice and casts an additional shield on him. Shiro notices, of course, but Keith shakes his head. _Don’t ask._

They move forward, slowly, weapons trained at the darkness surrounding them. Shiro dims down the glowing orbs that have been lighting up their path before. Whatever lurks in the shadows – it will come out, comfortable in the semi-darkness. A perfect chance for Shiro to power the orbs back on to full, blinding anyone who wasn’t prepared for it.

There’s a faint sound of gravel skittering across the floor and ice crunching beneath something heavy. Shiro spins at the noise, just on time to deflect a blow of claws aimed at his chest. At Shiro’s command, the light orbs flash in blinding white and the enormous creature that has attacked them disappears as quickly into the dark again as it has come out of it, whining in pain.

“A FUCKING SNOW TROLL,” Shiro yells and Keith tries to calm the horses, poor animals terrified, nostrils flaring at the stench of the creature that hits them all. It’s an effort not to gag.

Shiro’s eyes glow again as he unties the straps of his cloak and tosses it on Black’s back, his armour matte black with silver accents beneath, sword on the ready. Keith is too busy staring, too busy inhaling Shiro’s strong, slightly sweet scent to notice the beast launching at him, and with a yelp he barely manages to graze it with his sword, his attack spell useless against the sheer thickness of the snow troll’s coat.

The beast roars and rises on its hind legs, towering above Keith and Shiro, almost touching the cave ceiling. Snow trolls don't usually grow that enormous – the creature is bigger, broader than any wyvern Keith has ever seen in his life. The sharp teeth that poke over its lips leak greenish poison and so do its curved claws. The muscles bulging beneath the thick, matted greyish-white fur promise nothing but endurance and strength. Keith's sword hasn't even drawn any blood. Out of spite, he flips the troll off and jinxes it with heartburn, hissing a curse through his gritted teeth.

The troll inhales deeply, eyeing Keith speculatively, its mighty head cocked to the side. There is intellect behind those yellow eyes, and the beast roars again, launching another attack at him, though Shiro yells and blasts the troll with violet energy and charges at it with a mighty blow. It lands, leaving a deep gash across the beast's chest, though it doesn't particularly care for it as it roars again, slamming its fists on the floor of the passage, sending cracks through the ice and stone beneath their feet.

Keith concentrates, casting another attack spell but weaving some of Shiro's lightening into it this time, hoping that the shock will temporarily render the troll vulnerable for a killing blow. He more feels than sees Shiro circling the troll around, the bond between them taunt as magic flows freely from one to the other. It's a perfect sync, and when Keith rolls right before the beast, releasing the glyph into the centre of its chest, his sword carving gashes in its massive hind legs, Shiro jumps and with one swift motion cuts off the mobility of one of the beast's arm, pinpointing the exact weak spot in the troll's defence.

The yell of pain shudders the mountains above them, although even if wounded, even if its arm now hangs limply by its side, the snow troll isn't about to give up.

The magical blast rasps through the air, and it hurts to breathe it in, it hurts when Keith realises it saps at his own magic, depleting his quintessence levels, and the troll roars victoriously. His wounds begin to clot and heal, and even the limp arm begins to twitch, muscles contracting and retracting frantically as it fights to restore the severed nerves.

 _At least now we know why it's so cold here,_ Shiro says down their bond as the magic emanating from the troll sends frost forming on every surface – even on the Paladin armour. _The bloody thing is an alpha._

 _I thought those were supposed to be extinct,_ Keith replies, wiping sweat from his brow.

Alpha trolls have been hunted down for generations for their magical abilities had been causing so much death and destruction on both innocent people and the environment one of Princess Allura's ancestors – and a few other rulers of that time – had agreed upon providing a great bounty for each alpha killed. Over the deca-phoebs, the troll bloodlines have grown weaker without alphas. This beast can quite possibly be the last of the kind – and judging by its sheer size and the strength and elaborateness of his magic, this is an alpha at least a hundred deca-phoebs old.

 _We need to do something,_ Keith growls down the bond as he has his eyes trained on the troll. _I'm not failing Princess Allura because of some fucking magical mutt._

Shiro snorts out loud, and as if sensing he's laughing at him, the troll bares his poisonous fangs at Shiro and pounces, using the barely functioning arm for balance as it swings its other, sharp-clawed paw at the Black Paladin. Keith's whole being shudders when Shiro dodges the blow by mere inches. The worry, the scent of danger and adrenaline in the air awakens a stirring of something deep, ancient within Keith, and his shield cast around Shiro gains colour, blooming in red, and flares up at another launch, the troll going into frenzy as he aims at Shiro's vitals, clawing slowly away at the shield.

To his credit, Shiro manages to deflect and counter-attack without showing much strain. Keith still sees the sheen of sweat form on Shiro's skin, and down the bond he senses the pain at the spot where the artificial arm meets Shiro's scarred flesh. He goes in for another attack but the troll swings, practically ramming Keith with its massive paw. Keith barely gets back up to his feet, clutching at his side as his lungs fight for air.

The horses whine, terrified. No combat training could've prepared them to getting caught in-between one of the most dangerous predators to walk the earth and the unforgiving chill of the ice traps it has cast in its lair.

“Keith, you need to find the Red Lion,” Shiro growls out, and Keith's knees go weak. Going to the Lion of Fire, in the middle of the fight? Keith can't do it on a regular quintant, let alone when Shiro's life is danger.

 _Keith, you have to do this,_ Shiro repeats, the red shield finally cracking, and the violet one beneath shattering when the troll picks Shiro up and tosses him across the cave. Keith barely manages to catch him before Shiro hurts himself against the razor-sharp edges of ice, tips of the largest shards easily capable of impaling a person.

There's some blood on Shiro's armour already, dripping down from a deep cut across his cheekbone. A single inhale of the metallic scent makes the decision for Keith. He closes his eyes briefly, tapping into the gentleness of the quintessence Shiro offers so selflessly to him, and finds that _thing_ within himself, the ancient, arrogant, fiery presence that has chosen him the quintant he has set on the path of a Paladin.

The troll goes after them again, Death glaring through its eyes. Shiro is weakened, but he still throws up a hand, reinforcing the protection they keep on their stallions, yelling _Go!_ at them as the predator draws near, its curved claws too close to Yorak's neck. The horses try to resist the command, loyal to a fault, but when Keith snarls, baring his sharp teeth, Black and Yorak finally give in, breaking into a gallop as they escape into one of the side tunnels.

 _Keith_ , Shiro says with softness, with endless trust. With Shiro by his side, both swords raised as they stare down the fanged horror, Keith doesn't hesitate to look within himself and accept the bond with his Lion, even if he still bargains, still claims it’s only to keep Shiro safe because there is no point in the universe without him in it, and the entity of Fire listens, big golden eyes clever as she sees right through Keith's reluctance and false bravado.

At the end of it all, Keith loves Shiro.

The fire begins in his heart. It’s weak and barely warms Keith’s blood – he redirects the warmth to Shiro regardless. He only takes what he needs to feel his limbs fill with renewed strength, to feel his eyes sting with sharp pain he blinks away, his vision going sharper.

He isn’t sure who roars – he or his Lion – but he’s never felt lighter, stronger, and he allows himself only a quick glance at Shiro before he twirls, dancing around the troll’s claws.

 _I’m scared_ , he tells his Lion. She understands, a low purr that reverberates through Keith’s bones.

The fire builds up on the tips of Keith’s fingers, though instead of forming a ball or a glyph or anything that’s hard to control, the flames climb up Keith’s sword, not affecting the blade itself but glowing white-hot.

The Lion is offering a work-around, Keith understands. He’s aware of Shiro going for the troll’s eyes, and while the beast is busy with him, Keith charges.

Shiro’s fire hasn’t even caught on the beast’s coat. Keith’s—It has the troll lit like a bonfire. The predator doesn’t even notice the flames at first, or the deep, mortal wound Keith’s sword has left in its chest. Shiro is gasping for air but Keith grabs his arm, painfully aware of the fire growing stronger as the alpha slowly succumbs to it.

“We’re better to get out of here,” Keith says out loud, dragging Shiro away.

“We can’t just leave it here,” Shiro protests. “We need to make sure the snow troll is dead.”

“I think the Lion is taking care of that,” Keith mutters and together with Shiro watches from a safe distance a distinct shape of a Lion’s head form within the flames as her maw closes on the troll’s throat.

“Alright, I see your point,” Shiro chokes out a little breathlessly.

Keith doesn’t stop to watch any longer, and Shiro makes no attempts to free himself from Keith’s grip. They go into the tunnel their horses have escaped into, leaving the troll’s lair and its stench behind.

They walk quietly side by side, racing hearts calming down after the fight. Keith turns away from the fire glares dancing across the frost-covered walls and closes his eyes. He knows they are glowing with red, like Shiro’s glow with violet, but he doesn’t feel the victory, the joy of finally joining with his guardian entity. The heavy weight of Shiro’s palm on his shoulder grounds Keith, guides him away from the bad memories, and when he finally looks up at Shiro, his knees go weak again at the softness in his look.

“You’ve done it, Keith,” Shiro whispers, his hand gliding down from Keith’s shoulder all the way across Keith’s back until it stops at his waist. “You’re a Lion of Voltron now.”

“I don’t want that title,” Keith says firmly. “This was a one-time thing, the Lion knows that.”

“I understand,” he replies, sadness laced in his words. “I’m still proud of what you’ve done. It was—incredible.”

Keith’s cheeks flush when Shiro doesn’t break the eye contact, his lips parted slightly as he doesn’t seem to be able to stop staring. Thoughts bounce in Keith’s head, suggesting things he’s not sure he can brave even after fighting an alpha troll. He looks away, the fire in his blood having nothing to do with the Spirit he has just bonded with.

 

* * *

 

It takes them nearly a varga to find Black and Yorak in the labyrinth of tunnels beneath the mountain but once they do, the relief nearly knocks them off of their feet. Those caves are deep enough to reveal the reason behind the Balmera’s Spine being so revered in the Altean culture. Hundreds upon hundreds of shiny crystals of various sizes and shapes line the walls of these caves – if they went deeper below, they’d probably find matches for the largest crystal back at the Castle of Lions, Allura’s favourite. The sight makes Keith nostalgic for his home; Shiro’s flesh fingers trace the cave wall as they walk, brushing fondly the tiny stars in the solid stone.

The Paladins find a warmer spot in the caves to camp, making sure to rest beneath the crystal glow. Neither is particularly interested in continuing on their quest after the fight, both aching and exhausted and their horses still skittish. Yorak takes the longest to calm and Keith ends up bribing him with an apple he has found in one of Black’s saddle bags – favourite treat making the stubborn horse give in and let Keith close again.

Keith takes a long time to calm down, too, his eyes still glowing with red even if he knows for sure the fire they’ve left behind has long since burnt out, his magic resting. Shiro explains the prolonged connection is necessary on the first quintant of the bond between the Entity and the Paladin and it will pass after a few vargas once the two find the balance. It's reassuring to know, yet Keith is still uneasy, wondering at every new sensation.

It's definitely a lot warmer in this part of the caves – even Keith deems it fine to lose a few layers of clothing, and Shiro doesn’t seem to be able to stop stealing glances at Keith as he undresses. There’s restlessness within Keith’s body, and the goose bumps that run over his skin when he approaches Shiro with an offer to have a look at his cuts and bruises have everything to do with the way how Shiro looks at him. Appraising somewhat, gaze lingering on the planes of Keith’s body, skittering over his broad shoulders, faltering at the sight of an old scar there, until whatever thoughts run through Shiro’s mind get his cheeks to flush prettily.

Perhaps it’s because of Keith’s palm cupping his cut cheek, or his other hand tracing the lines of a bruise beneath Shiro’s shirt, but the Black Paladin’s breathing grows laboured, cheeks red, and it takes a monumental effort on Keith’s part not to act on the tenacious need to lean in close and kiss the strong column of Shiro’s throat.

Slowly, Shiro’s own hands find their way to Keith’s wounds, his healing magic pouring down on Keith’s hurts and he sighs quietly in relief, Shiro watching his every move with almost zealous attention. Keith does end up leaning into his touch, wordlessly showing where it hurts the most, until Shiro’s broad palm presses against Keith’s side and he hisses in pain.

“A cracked rib,” Shiro frowns, his eyes going violet again as he pours more quintessence into his hands, and Keith fights back a gasp, steadying himself as his body gives in to Shiro’s healing magic. The Paladin bond between them goes taunt again, and Keith catches a glimpse of Shiro’s thoughts, feelings, his concern for Keith and the unyielding pride and affection. Keith answers with his own gratitude and relief that Shiro’s alright, and the soft chuckle Shiro gives him in reply sends shivers running down Keith’s exposed back.

Once they both are satisfied with the healing, they share a meal, though neither is particularly hungry. Keith puts a shirt back on, and he swears he can see something like disappointment flash across Shiro’s features though he shrugs it off, unbraiding his hair with a content little sigh. They talk for a little while longer, though there’s more pauses and lingering looks there than actual dialogue, and with a reluctant sigh, Shiro murmurs his goodnight and curls up on his sleeping bag, facing away from the fire and Keith.

He stays up for a bit longer, staring at his hands, still not sure if they shake because of the bond with his Fire entity still active or because of touching, however briefly, the man he loves. Keith glances at him from time to time, and still sees the restlessness in Shiro, aware he can't fall asleep. For a long moment, Keith contemplates slipping closer to Shiro, wrapping himself around him, sharing warmth and the feeling of safety. It's hard to resist, the ever-present pull towards the grey-eyed man, the need for the physical contact.

Shiro and Keith have shared their deepest secrets with each but they have never moved past the awkward, lingering touches and looks. It might be because they rarely get to spend this much time alone with each other as they do during this mission, finally just the two of them and no one else for miles on. It might also be the reason for Keith's discovery of how damn much he wants to breach that barrier between them, that expanse of space of mutual respect in a long-lasting friendship and the confusing feelings and sparkles of desire that have been dancing between them for years now.

Keith snorts, bringing his knees up to his chin as he allows himself to relax against the cave wall.

Keith is the most useless alpha in the entirety of the Altean Kingdom, it seems – any other alpha would have acted upon the attraction a long, long time ago. Keith, on the other hand, just stuffs himself with potions to avoid the ruts and pretends not to exist when any omega in the general vicinity to him goes into heat. Not like he's ever wanted any other person but Takashi Shirogane anyway. Keith had sex before though – it was with an omega who went into heat and it so happened that Keith was young and frustrated and needed to get Shiro out of his head – it was around the time when he'd realised the extent of his affection for the man, utterly confused by his feelings shifting from friendly to romantic – so he agreed to help that young man out.

It didn't go well for Keith. It hurt, and it wasn't even remotely satisfying. He was disgusted and confused even more afterwards, and wanted only Shiro ever since.

Keith was about to approach Shiro about his feelings. He couldn't keep it in. He wanted him to know - and yet he had never even considered that Shiro might return the feelings back then.  Deep down, Keith is a coward. He was and still is too scared of losing Shiro. He did end up losing him once already. The deca-phoeb Shiro was presumed dead along with Pidge’s father and older brother has cost Keith a lot more than he’s willing to admit.

Now? Now Keith isn't sure about a single thing in his life but the fact that the bond between them has grown impossibly stronger. _Unconditional love,_ that’s how Princess Allura once described what Keith and Shiro have.

Keith sighs, his eyelids growing heavy as he watches the steady rise and fall of Shiro's broad chest. Keith doesn't know why, but Shiro has always treated him with outmost respect and kindness, ever since their first meeting. Even when Keith had been quite— difficult, though over time he’d found himself trusting Shiro. To Keith, it was like his stars have found their constellations – in Shiro and his faith in Keith, in his kind, broad smile and golden heart.

It doesn’t really matter that Keith is an alpha and Shiro is an omega and there are expectations from a relationship between them based on their biology alone, not to mention the way of how Altean society is a little judging on the individuals of their age without a mate. It has certainly never mattered to Keith. He just wants to spend the rest of his life with Shiro – if he’d have him. Becoming a mate, starting a family – he never lets himself to think on that, too focused on burning brightly for Shiro alone.

Keith sighs, slowly drifting into sleep as he admires the shapes and curves of Shiro’s body and wonders if there really are alternate realities out there as Princess’s uncle Coran likes to speculate about – what are Shiro and Keith up to in them? Are they friends? Lovers? Or maybe they have never even met? Keith shudders involuntary, pushing an idea like that away and settles, for once, to marvel at the prospect of being a husband to Shiro, and at a life without the War that is always threatening to tear them apart.

 

* * *

 

The next quintant – it takes fishing out the chronometer Pidge has built to find out the exact date and time and Shiro and Keith are relieved to see they aren’t that far behind on their schedule – the Paladins set out to look for the way out of the labyrinth they have ended up in. Shiro shares his concerns that they were supposed to exit the pass through a specific cave as per Thace's and Ulaz’s orders, but Keith is filled with optimism and leads their little party out to the light with no effort at all, guided by his instincts alone. Shiro chuckles, sound reverberating within Keith, when they spy light ahead of them, their horses gaining new strength as they ride towards it.

“Great job, Keith,” Shiro says, smiling broadly at him. Keith bows his head at the praise, warm and fuzzy.

The morning – if there are any in the dark tunnels beneath the largest mountains in the Kingdom – has been rather awkward for Keith, and he has had to hide from Shiro for a while until he could control his overactive senses and calm his boiling blood. It’s not the first time he wakes up rock hard in the close proximity to Shiro, it’s just that this time it has been challenging to get away with it. It’s just the two of them besides the horses, and Shiro no doubt could scent Keith’s arousal. He could scent Shiro’s, too, after all.

Even now it's a little awkward between them, though focusing on their task at hand makes it easier to pass the time. The cave exit turns out to be high up in the mountains, with a steep, narrow road leading down into the valley below. Only guided by the Blades’ instructions, it’s hard to pinpoint just how far away they are from their intended course. It will be a longer ride from so high up in any case, and Keith shudders at the thought of enduring more snow and winter.

“Well, we've officially left the Kingdom of Altea,” Keith murmurs, throwing his braid out of the way. Shiro huffs, patting Black's strong neck, and motions Keith to follow as they begin descend.

If anything, the world outside of their realm is not much different in the end. It's still cold, and the sky above them is a solid mass of grey, not so much of a difference from what they've seen when they've entered the pass on the other side. There aren’t much of beasts around either, though Keith has been hoping to hunt for something fresh for dinner.

Shiro is slightly ahead of him now, his broad back and the way how his hips move as he rides draw Keith's attention away from keeping an eye on their surroundings. There is supposed to be another landmark around, only noticeable to the eye of the ones who know what to look for and yet they might miss it entirely thanks to the changes in their plan.

Keith frowns at the deep crease between Shiro's brows when he dares to ride up closer to him while the narrow road allows for it, their thighs brushing.

“Shiro?” he asks hesitantly, noticing the slight sheen of sweat on his friend's skin and the flush across his cheeks. Shiro hasn't even bothered with tying his cloak or at least wearing a scarf, let alone he's opted out of wearing his full armour – that alone is already quite unlike Shiro -- and the laces of his jacket and the shirt beneath are left open, too, teasing slivers of beautiful skin and muscle there. “Are you alright?”

Shiro lifts his eyes to Keith and smiles. “Of course I am.” Keith doesn't buy it, his frown deepening. Shiro sighs and rolls his eyes. “Just a little hot all of a sudden, don't worry about it.”

“Are you sure? Maybe it's from the fight with the troll, I mean, those mutts have poison fangs and claws and what if some—”

“Keith, it's not that, calm down,” Shiro laughs at the sight of Keith's concerned face. His eyes are tinted violet, suggesting he's using his magic to search for the clues on their landmarks, the ever-present swirl of information pouring into him from the hyper-awareness spell. _To see through your Lion’s eyes_ , as Shiro calls it. Keith could never quite master it, and somewhat is jealous of Shiro's knack for complicated spells. “I’m just a little strained, that’s all.”

Keith reaches a hand out to Shiro and he takes it, a little reassuring squeeze. Keith makes sure to give him not just that – through their bond, through their physical contact, he gives Shiro his quintessence, too, pouring it down into him in generous waves. Shiro chuckles, shaking his head. Keith has long since learned how to work around Shiro's stubborn-ass  shields and the “no, Keith, you need this too” and now he's abusing this vulnerability in Shiro until that deep crease between Shiro's brows eases and he exhales in a grateful sigh.

“Better?”

“Yeah. Thank you.”

 

* * *

 

The grey mass above their heads grows heavy and dark in the span of just a few vargas and Keith keeps glancing worriedly at the sky. They’ve made great progress getting down the mountain slope though haven’t found the path to the Marmorite portal gate yet. At least they are almost at the same level with the forest that surrounds the valley, and the road gets a lot easier on their steeds, until they find themselves riding along said forest, old pines to their left, snowy expanses of the valley below to their right.

With wind picking up and temperature dropping, Keith huffs and cuddles into his scarf and cloak, shuddering every time a gush of freezing air hits him. Shiro, however, remains unbothered by the cold and it concerns Keith more and more. Something is definitely off with him, though Shiro is too stubborn to admit to that.

It’s not long before the first snowflakes land on Keith’s sleeve, tiny white fluffs promising snow quintants back at home but teasing a snowstorm out here.

“That can’t be good,” Shiro murmurs, turning in his saddle as he stares at the mountain peaks. Keith shifts to follow his gaze, too, and the shudder that runs over him has nothing to do with his warmth-loving nature.

It’s still barely around noon yet the mountains above them are dark and towering with blue-black clouds, occasional lightening running ominously through them. With the direction of the wind, it won’t take long for the storm to catch up with them.

“We need to find shelter before all hell breaks loose,” Keith says, spurring Yorak, Shiro promptly following him.

 

* * *

 

It’s no luck. No nook in the mountain mass, no natural caves in the forest, no nothing. The snowstorm is at their heels, thunder rolling in the sky, their horses stumbling in banks of snow, and both Paladins growing more and more anxious at the realisation there’s no way out of this. They are getting caught in a blizzard, all alone in the uninhabitable no-man land.

Keith is busy cursing under his breath as the snow gets into his eyes and he ends up wrapping his face almost entirely in his scarf, the hood and the ends of his cloak flapping around in the strong wind. He can barely see Shiro and Black a few feet ahead of him, and even if Shiro has dared to light up the glowing orbs so that they won’t lose the track of each other in the rapidly dying daylight and walls of snow, it’s still hard enough to navigate.

He doesn’t know how much time has passed – it might have been vargas, it might have been doboshes, but Shiro’s voice rolls above the roar of the blizzard, hopeful at last. “Keith, look!”

Keith nearly snaps back that he can’t, in fact, see shit, horribly cranky in his least favourite weather conditions, and as if sensing Keith’s predicament, Shiro reaches out to him though their Paladin bond and coaxes to follow, to share, and Keith, teeth chattering, opens up to him, shedding the last remnants of the barriers between them until they are one, until he blinks in confusion and realises he’s looking through Shiro’s eyes.

There’s a dark mass of a shack ahead, hidden behind the pines. Keith feels Shiro’s relief as his own, and steps back out of their connection, grinning into his scarf.

Good news at last.

The shack, upon closer examination, is sturdy enough and can actually qualify as a hunter’s cabin, blissfully unoccupied and complete with a small stable. Shiro and Keith waste no time and dismount, dashing inside the structure – Keith has had to pick the lock on the door, however – to give it a quick sweep to make sure there are no surprises inside, though it’s all ordinary, simple and plain.

They return to Yorak and Black and lead them inside the stable, blessing whoever built this cabin and made sure to keep it sturdy enough to withstand the harsh conditions. The Paladins make quick work of unsaddling the horses and brushing the snow and ice off lest it gets too messy and cold inside. There’s some hay and Keith finds a whole bag of oat, so they feed them, both Black and Yorak greedy as they eat, and Shiro melts enough of snow to keep their troughs full. Keith fumbles, trying to work around his block on the fire spells, but manages to cast a warmth glyph anyway, Shiro backing him up as their spells criss-cross.

If anything, the clever eyes of their mounts seem to communicate their thank-yous well enough, and Keith laughs when Yorak nuzzles into his neck, nearly knocking him off of his feet.

“I’ve got ya, buddy,” Keith says, patting his head and brushing the stubborn lock of his dark mane out of the way. Shiro is smiling, specks of amusement dancing in his eyes as he pulls at Keith’s cloak and leads him back outside. The blizzard is raging in full force now, but they need to make sure to secure the area. Wind knocks the breath out of Keith but he raises his hands stubbornly, calling to his magic and locking onto Shiro to his left.

When he has looked through Shiro’s eyes, there has been a glimpse of something so...  primal within Shiro, though it has barely lasted a tick before disappearing again. Now that they are standing side by side, sharing their life force and casting spell upon spell, weaving them together, Keith senses that flicker again. No matter how much he wants to push, to find out more, Keith respects Shiro and won’t violate the mutual trust, though that sensation still floods inside of him through their perfect sync, spreading through his freezing limbs and making his blood roar in reply.

It’s an effort to hide his reaction, to tune down what he transmits down the bond, and Keith is thankful to all the layers he puts on himself in this weather, thankful, for once, for the chill and frost and ice and lets it seep inside, too, quenching his bolts of desire until he is shuddering against the wind again.

Casting concealment and protection spells takes barely ten doboshes but they have to be thorough, yet Keith shakes so violently in the cold Shiro takes mercy on him and shoos him inside the cabin, finishing up the last spell on his own.

Inside the house isn’t much warmer than outside. It's a small, neat place, though it is clear it has been neglected for a while now, dust gathering on every surface and the wooden boards in the floor beginning to rot in the dampness that seeps through the creaks in window frames. Keith huffs, trying to lock the windows tighter, but the wood is swollen and doesn't budge. At least there is some kindling left in the corner, so Keith finds flints and tries to work on starting a fire in the fireplace and lighting a few candles, for the first time in his life not wanting to keep away from the blissful flames.

There's only one room in the cabin with the tiniest kitchen area possible, the rest of the space dedicated to host a bed, a small, dilapidated couch by the fireplace, and a drawer. There's no personal items around that would've helped to guess more about the owner of the house, and the only hint that it belongs to a hunter, besides the elk horns hanging above the entry outside, are an unstrung bow and a quiver left in the corner of the kitchen, as if forgotten in a hurry.

When Shiro walks in, shaking snow off of his cloak and the saddle bags with food and miscellaneous items thrown over his broad shoulders, Keith has already made the cabin lit and welcoming, and Shiro lets out a laugh at the sight.

“Do you think there’s any food in there?” Keith nods in the direction of the kitchen as Shiro unties the laces of his heavy, though thoroughly soaked, cloak.

“Oh, I hope so,” he says, then frowns, “though it doesn’t sit well with me to just take someone else’s stuff without permission.”

“Fine, we’ll stick to our own supplies,” Keith rolls his eyes, continuing to strip. He finds snow in his pockets and in the folds of his jacket and the shirt beneath, wondering how the hell he hasn’t turned into a walking icicle by now. There are small puddles on the floor from all the snow that now is melting, and Keith leaps around, barefoot and shivering with only his undershirt and breeches on, until he huffs and sits down on the floor in front of the fire, his back resting against the couch.

He can hear Shiro begin to strip behind him, too, though he tries to focus on anything but the effective sounds of it, opting out to watch the flames until he hears him curse softly.

“Keith, can you please help me with this?”

Keith turns, a brow raised in question, to see Shiro struggling with one of the belts of his jacket. His artificial fingers can’t quite get a proper purchase, and Keith promptly gets up to help.

“The knot is tied too strong,” he comments after examining it and begins to carefully untangle it, oblivious at first of Shiro’s cheeks tinting red at the accidental innuendo. “What?” he asks, frowning at Shiro’s startled face.

“N- Nothing!”

“Are you sure?”

“Y-yes..?”

Keith chuckles and returns to working on the tricky belts, until he ends up helping Shiro strip out of his jacket entirely, getting distracted by his scent and the way how his own body reacts, betraying him once again, and goes to hang Shiro's jacket to dry through the night along with his own clothing.

Keith tries to fight his arousal but there's no denying the effect, the power Shiro wields over him. It gets even worse when Shiro pads closer to the fire and Keith gets to watch him take off his shirt soaked from the snowstorm, too, his muscles catching the light so well as he rolls his broad shoulders. His skin is flushed and he doesn't look even remotely cold – when Keith has been in his orbit, helping to undress, he’s felt Shiro's warmth beneath his fingers, has noticed the sheer layer of sweat on his skin. It has been like standing in summer sun in all its glory and Keith wants nothing more but to be back into its – _his_ – light.

Keith doesn't catch himself taking in the sight of Shiro's body, inhaling his scent, getting drunk on it, until it's too late and his whole body attunes itself to every movement Shiro makes, painfully aware of how small the cabin actually is, aware of a single bed in the corner that is barely big enough to fit two grown men but _fuck_ Shiro's so damn gorgeous, his thin, close-fitting breeches leaving almost nothing to imagination. Keith wonders how it would feel like to glide his hands over those muscles in his back, drawing lower and lower until he'd grip Shiro's fine, meaty round ass and give it a squeeze, how would it feel like to strip him down completely and worship every inch of Shiro's body and--

No.

Falling into daydreaming isn't an option, not when the blizzard rages outside, the wind howling and lightening cracking through the sky, and they are stuck in a hunter's cabin for who knows how long now until the storm passes, their time-sensitive mission now endangered by their predicament. Keith knows they are safe here for now, that their spells will hold against pretty much anything, yet he still glances worriedly at the windows, wondering if the old woodworks will hold up against the onslaught of nature.

Keith sighs, avoiding looking at the shirtless Shiro again, and returns to trying to warm his limbs. He unbraids his hair attempting to dry it, his body shuddering as it begs for warmth. Shiro takes pity on him and stalks off to prepare something hot to eat, though their supplies are sadly limited if they want to last all the way to their destination. There has been a reason why Keith has wanted to hunt, after all, and now they end up chewing on dried meat and a few slices of bread just to pace out their rations as much as possible. Shiro has ended up sniffing around the cabinets in the kitchen after all, though hasn't found anything but a sadly damaged can of beans.

Even the modest food and a hot cup of spiced Altean tea don't help Keith to get warm, and neither does the arousal still boiling in his blood. Shiro is silent, too, his eyes often trained on Keith as they sit on the floor by the fireplace, having thrown a few blankets Shiro has been reluctant to lend from the singular bed in the house to make themselves more comfortable but Keith straight up refuses to ignore the additional chances at warmth.

Keith busies himself re-braiding his hair now that it has dried up enough and he remembers why he prefers to keep it under control in a bun or a braid – it becomes ridiculously wavy after getting wet and annoys the living hell out of Keith.

Shiro watches him with eyes sharp with hunger, as if the motion alone is enough of a turn-on for him. Perhaps Keith seeing too much into this, though when he glances at Shiro from beneath his eyelashes, there’s no mistaking how his eyes follow Keith’s every move, lips parted slightly. Keith forces himself to recount all the names of the previous Paladins of Voltron and Altean kings and queens just to get himself distracted from Shiro.

Time passes. The wind outside howls like the black, many-eyed wolf from the legends, low and longing. It makes unease settle over the both Paladins – people say once the many-eyed wolf catches your scent there is no escaping him. They are in enough trouble already – encountering the many-eyed wolf, too, is just too much for one mission.

Keith sighs, wrapping the blanket tighter around himself but it's to no avail. He simply can't get warm, his body shaking ever so slightly until Shiro's concern makes him scoot closer and without much of a preamble claim a spot by Keith's side and curl his arm protectively around Keith's shoulders, guiding him into the welcoming warmth of his body.

“Shiro?” Keith asks, twisting enough to have a better look at his face, basking in such a close proximity to the man.

“You’re shivering,” Shiro murmurs as an explanation, his artificial fingers gently pushing away a loose strand of hair off of Keith's face and he guides him a little closer, allowing Keith to cuddle into his side.

Shiro's scent is overwhelming, and it hits Keith with a force stronger than anything he's ever experienced before. It's like the very essence of the man, strong, powerful, unyielding, is portrayed through the light and just a touch musky scent, yet it is so unmistakably _Shiro_ nothing can quite compare. Keith is getting drunk on it, more and more with each breath he makes.

Shiro hasn't bothered with finding himself a shirt to wear, and now Keith's fingers grow bold as he allows himself to place his palm on Shiro's side, exploring cautiously the strong muscle beneath his fingertips.

Shiro inhales sharply at the hesitant touch, his body arching into Keith's palm, pressing them closer. Encouraged, Keith dares to slide his palm up until he finds the pronounced planes of Shiro's torso, gliding up over his abs and stopping a few inches shy of his pectorals, just beneath the finely sized muscle there. Shiro bears more than a few scars, the most terrible around the stump of his arm and despite knowing well Shiro doesn't want pity, Keith's heart still aches at the sight of his suffering etched deep into his skin.

Shiro's breathing is laboured, and he can't quite tear his gaze away from Keith, lips parted so invitingly, though Keith's mind still registers how actually hot is the skin beneath his palm, a definitive contrast to his icy fingers; Keith's touch makes goose bumps run across Shiro's skin. At first, he contemplates again a chance of Shiro getting poisoned by that snow troll after all, but the way how his own body reacts to Shiro, how strong is the urge to scent him properly, to bury himself inside of him...

“Shiro?” he murmurs, tilting his head up to him. Shiro’s pupils are blown, eyes almost fully black safe for a tiny ring of stormy grey Keith loves so much.

They gravitate closer, Keith's palm growing impatient as he sets off to explore the broad expanses of the Black Paladin's chest, aware of their frantic heartbeats syncing. He casually brushes Shiro's nipple – just an accident, with a pad of his finger in a feather-light touch – though he finds the sensitive bud already swollen, peaked beneath his caress, and Shiro hisses softly.

Shiro's arms pull Keith closer, their lips just a few inches short of brushing, and guided by Shiro's demanding tug, Keith slides all the way into his lap, thighs straddling him, palms cupping his jaw as finally, with a happy content sigh, Keith kisses Shiro, pouring his love and affection and gratitude into the touch.

Shiro moans, open-mouthed into the kiss, and Keith deepens it in reply, his tongue brushing Shiro's full lip and licking demandingly into the heat of his mouth.

Shiro's hands find their way underneath Keith's shirt, trailing the lines of his hips and sides and torso until they stop over Keith's chest, right over where his heart beats. Keith opens his eyes, not even aware he's closed them before now, and he loses himself in the affectionate look in Shiro's, in how his gaze darts over Keith's features, lingering on his lips. Shiro kisses him again, taking the lead this time, and Keith melts, drawing himself closer until there's no hiding his swollen erection from Shiro, until he feels Shiro's length press into him, too. Keith rocks his hips experimentally, admiring the demanding hardness bulging in Shiro's pants, and the man moans again, breaking their kiss and gulping for air as if he's drowning in lust.

“Keith, I—” he pleads, cheeks so flushed Keith sets off to pepper kisses all over them, taking his time to kiss Shiro's black eyelashes, too, his forehead, that little wrinkle between his brows, the scar over his nose ridge, the tip of his nose... Shiro whimpers when Keith's attention shifts lower, skittering over his strong, sharp jaw, and settles over his throat, licking and kissing the strong muscles there. Keith's cock twitches when he finally scents Shiro properly, basking in it, letting his own primal side rise head and roar and he's unaware of making a sound, too, but Shiro's fingers dig deep into Keith's flesh and he tilts his head to the side, offering Keith more.

Shiro has always been someone Keith looked up to. It's not even because he's a few years younger than Shiro, or because he was a homeless lowlife back when they'd first met and Shiro was a Paladin already, striding confidently through the crowd, and Keith had latched onto the image of a hero as if Shiro's example was his last chance to survive in the cruelty of the world.

Shiro. His leader. His friend. His guiding light.

If it wasn't for him, Keith's life would've been a lot different. Miserable. Hollow. Cold.

He drags his lips over Shiro's throat and kisses lower into the dip at its base. Shiro pants, eyes glazed, working on unlacing Keith's shirt until he gives up on it and simply rips it open, finding his own way to assault Keith's body, his kisses rough but so, so _good_.

Keith gasps when Shiro uses his teeth on him, definitely leaving a mark – though not breaching the skin.

“You like playing with fire, huh?” he asks, pulling away enough to have a better look at Shiro's flushed face.

“Only if it's yours,” Shiro replies, eyeing him appraisingly, his flesh hand travelling all the way down to palm at Keith's erection, strained in his cotton breeches.

It unhinges Keith.

With one swift motion, Keith flips them, pinning Shiro beneath himself, then he sheds his ruined shirt and begins to work on the laces of Shiro's pants, bending down to lick a few drops of sweat that have gathered on Shiro's skin, kissing down his body until he pulls out his beautiful, swollen cock and takes the head into his mouth.

“K-Keith!”

Shiro writhes, hips bulking, artificial palm finding its way into Keith's long hair, fisting it as Keith works his considerable, thick length, taking in as much as he can until it gets too uncomfortable.

Keith isn't particularly skilled at this, and Shiro guides him at times until Keith finds the perfect pace and purrs around his cock, enjoying the act of pleasuring Shiro about as much as the man himself does, welcoming Keith's ministrations with a chant of endearments meant only for Keith's ears.

“By the stars, Keith-- You're amazing, baby,” Shiro pants out, head thrown back and eyes closed as he tries to steady himself, to stop from fucking up into Keith's mouth. Keith barely registers how the praise skitters pleasantly over his senses, the pet name instantly dear to him.

Keith stops then, letting go of Shiro's cock with a wet pop of his lips, and says, command in his tone, “Eyes on me, Shiro.”

He obeys.

Takashi Shirogane, the undisputed leader of the Paladins of Voltron, the strongest fighter in their army, looks Keith in the eyes, submission, trust flowing in his gaze. He melts into Keith's caress, breathing laboured, and Keith looses himself in the sight of him sprawled on the blankets, glares from the fire dancing across his sweat-slick skin.

“Good boy,” Keith praises, his thumb flicking over Shiro's cockhead.

They don’t need to voice what each wants, understanding each other without words. Shiro lifts his hips enough for Keith to help take off his pants entirely and toss them aside.

Of all the years they've spent joined at the hip, Keith has never really seen Shiro so vulnerable, so exposed as he is now, his legs parting for Keith, inviting him closer, though Keith sits back, mesmerised by just how _wet_ Shiro is.

“Are you—?”

Keith's voice hitches enough to make Shiro break through his lust and rise on his elbows, staring worriedly at him.

“Is something wrong?”

“You’re in heat, aren't you,” Keith manages, well aware even the tips of his ears are flushed now.

That would explain a lot. That would explain why Shiro is so eager, why he welcomes Keith’s touch when all the years before nothing like this kind of intimacy ever sparkled to life between them. It might satisfy any other alpha but Keith is looking for love, not sex. If Shiro is driven only by his biology demanding it, demanding what Keith can offer... It hurts to realise. It hurts so much because Keith loves Shiro and the force that pulls him towards the grey-eyed man has nothing to do with their nature. To build up hope his feelings might be returned and then let it all crumble down because, as always, it’s biology that dominates the world.

Shiro’s biting on his lip, brows knit together as he runs a palm through his messy hair, white forelock still sticking out so stubbornly.

“I guess I am,” he manages, frowning at the way how Keith’s face falls. Blood still thumps in Keith’s ears, his cock is still demanding attention as his nostrils flare at Shiro’s scent, at the pheromones in the air between.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Keith asks quietly, tilting his head to the side.

“I wasn’t sure. It’s—different. It feels different from how the heats used to be before—“ Shiro trails off and nods to his Altean arm.

“Oh.”

_What do I do what do I do what do I do_

Shiro sits up, pulling Keith closer into himself and he leans into him, too overwhelmed for anything else so he lets Shiro stroke his hair and study his features, his broad thumb brushing his lips.

“Keith, where’s your mind wandered off to?”

“I—I don’t think I can do this,” Keith whispers. “Not when—You need this but I can’t.” Tears roll down Keith’s cheeks and Shiro catches them all, wiping away. “I love you, Shiro. I always have,” Keith whispers, watching Shiro’s eyes widen, gleam with emotions he can’t quite label but he doesn’t get to say anything else because Shiro claims his mouth, kissing deeply and Keith breaks, kissing back and crying, pulling Shiro close, close, closer, until after an infinity they finally tear apart, gasping for air.

“I love you too,” Shiro rasps out and Keith is a sobbing mess, hiding in the nook of Shiro’s neck. “I’ve loved you for a long time and— I didn’t expect the heats coming back,” Shiro continues, voice hitching. “It has caught me completely by surprise. I thought I was too broken for them—“

“You’re not broken, don’t talk like that—“

“Keith—I don’t know what this means yet,” Shiro presses on, his hands curling around Keith’s waist, “and I don’t want you thinking that all I care about now is getting dicked because of it—I want you, Keith. Only you. I want to love you and worship you and make you feel so good and it has nothing to do with the heat.”

Keith kisses him again, fingers finding their way into Shiro’s hair, scratching gently at the short buzz at the back of his head until travelling up to mess his bangs up and Keith’s soul sings at the endearments, at the soft words that finally, inevitably, warm him to the very core.

“I’ve got to be honest with you,” Keith murmurs when they break apart again, “heat or no heat, I always feel the same way about you. I always want to make you feel good, I always want to make love to you—”

“Oh?”

“Mhm... Maybe leave a mark or two here and there...” Keith tongues and nibbles gently at Shiro’s scent gland, making him arch into the touch, but it’s only a tease – Keith would never do anything without Shiro’s consent. “Hell, I haven’t even suspected you were in a heat until I’ve seen how wet you are for me—“

“Keith, _fuck_ —“

He pulls away, admiring Shiro, memorising his features, the utmost trust in his eyes as Keith pushes him back onto the blankets with a palm pressed to his chest, then slides it lower, wrapping his fingers firmly around Shiro's swollen, leaking cock.

“This isn’t about the heat, Shiro,” he whispers.

“This is about us,” Shiro echoes, arching into his touch.

Keith bends, tasting Shiro’s pre-cum, moaning out loud at how good it is on his tongue, and leaves a trail of kisses down the shaft, his other hand steadying Shiro briefly before experimentally he dares to kiss lower, tongue probing gently at Shiro’s entrance.

“Oh—Keith—“

Shiro, apparently, is a babbling mess when he’s horny, even more so when Keith sets off determined to fingerfuck him for a little while, waiting for Shiro’s permission to do anything else. Sometimes, Keith can’t even tell what Shiro is saying, his words all jumbled up together with moans of pleasure. It’s nice to witness.

It indeed doesn’t take Shiro too long, he’s demanding and impatient and he glares down at Keith when it’s too much for him to bear, his skin glistening, his beefy muscles standing out in a glorious display of health and strength.

“Keith, quit teasing,” he gasps out.

“Mhm?” Keith hums around Shiro’s dick.

“Fuck. Me. _Now_.”

Keith winks at him, giving one final, generous lick to Shiro’s gorgeous length, and slowly stands up on his feet. He notices a singular pillow on the bed and pads over to grab it, motioning for Shiro to lift his hips to slide it beneath.

“Comfortable?”

“With you? Always,” Shiro answers, wetting his lips in anticipation; Keith follows the motion with zeal.

His eyes are on Keith, watching his every move as Keith tentatively, somewhat shyly unlaces his own pants, tugging the fabric off until finally he stands completely naked before Shiro.

“Woah,” Shiro gasps out, jaw slack as he admires Keith, his gaze alone making him see the stars.

“Shut up.”

“No, really— You’re stunning.”

Keith mutters something under his breath but returns into Shiro’s orbit, kissing him sweetly on the lips, until Shiro’s demanding thrusts up into Keith make him groan openly into his mouth and he gives in to his pleas, slicking his cock in Shiro’s wetness before carefully, ever so gently, sliding inside.

Keith blinks briefly, trying to quench his feelings singing, rioting, rejoicing at the way how it’s a perfect fit, how Shiro shifts, wrapping his legs around Keith, bringing him closer and he kisses him, again and again, drunk on love, on his scent, on the whole idea of finally, after years of longing and pining and loss, being with him, intertwined together, no space left in-between, both body and soul bare.

“Baby,” Shiro whispers when Keith begins to move, thrusting deeper every time, watching attentively for Shiro’s reaction. “Yes, just like that—“

Keith doesn’t notice their Paladin bond going taunt again at first, but when his consciousness begins to flood with Shiro’s feelings, with his yearning and lust and love, he truly sees, _feels_ that this means to him so much more than a heat ever could. It’s—overwhelming, sharing the sensations like this, and Keith isn’t sure he’ll last long enough, if he’s even enough to satisfy Shiro in this state.

Shiro kisses him, fingers tangled in his hair as they move in sync, licking affectionate endearments into his mouth, whispering his name like a mantra and Keith loses himself in it, the hand that doesn’t support his weight sliding between their bodies and wrapping around Shiro’s cock, giving him all there is to give until Keith senses his lover’s climax building up, up, up somewhere deep within, between them, until their shared feelings become one and a new bond snaps into place, a golden, glowing-like-sunlight thread Keith knows Shiro, too, sees in his mind.

Shiro laughs, so merry, so beautiful. “That’s something new—“

Keith hums approvingly, distracted by making sure to answer his need for worshiping Shiro in every way he can think of.

“Shiro, your eyes are glowing,” Keith pants out once he’s done sucking and nibbling at those delightfully swollen pink nipples, groaning when Shiro arches into him again, so greedy for more when Keith hits just the right spot within him.

“Yours—ahh—too—“

Magic. It’s pure magic between them now, flowing effortlessly, healing the old aches neither has ever bothered to acknowledge before, taking away their pains and worries and pouring strength and light and love into their bodies, into their souls. Vaguely, both are aware of their guardian spirits purring in content, as if they’ve been waiting for this to happen for a long time. If Keith hasn’t been so busy with Shiro teasing him, nibbling at his earlobe that he has had no idea can be this sensitive, he would’ve flipped them both off, to hell with the inherit respect he’s supposed to feel as a Paladin.

Keith feels his knot form, feels his own climax nearing. Shiro’s pants and moans are like music to his ears -- better, even. So good, so strong, so responsive, so eager to give, too – as if desperate to prove again and again his confession, to prove just how much Keith means to him.

“We should’ve talked this through,” Keith manages when denying the inevitable is pointless and Shiro offers a meek nod.

“We can’t really—have kids in the middle of a w—ah—“

Keith shifts, thrusting harder, rolling his hips just right to elicit more breathless responses from Shiro.

“Mhm—How about—“

“Mark me, Keith,” Shiro interrupts, sweat beading down his temples and slick on his skin. He’s still so hot, the air in the small cabin grows warm and full of the sounds of skin slapping against skin, of their little gasps and sounds of lovemaking. Keith searches his eyes, nearly drowning in Shiro's affection, openness.

It's a big step, for both of them. Officiating their relationship, confirming to the world and to each other their commitment – they went on this mission as two best friends, as brothers-in-arms. They will return as mates, bonded in spirit and body. Also, both finally no longer brooding over their mutual longing and the complete inability to do something about it until it bites them in the ass, apparently. That alone will definitely cheer their fellow Paladins up.

“I—Are you—“ Shiro interrupts again, breaking Keith’s hesitance down with a fierce kiss and million reassurances pouring into him through the bond until Keith lets go of his old, old fears and nods, smiling.

Keith leans closer, glancing down at the sight of them joined and nearly comes from that alone. Shiro grins, tilting his head again as Keith nuzzles into the crook of his neck until his sharp teeth find the spot and close around it, biting through Shiro’s golden skin.

Shiro gasps, murmuring Keith’s name again and again as release finds him, and he shudders with it, coming across their bellies as Keith tastes blood in his mouth, taking his time to kiss away the hurt but it heals on its own anyway, magic strong between them.

“Keith?” Shiro murmurs, breathless, searching his eyes, both hands cupping his face.

“I’m yours, Takashi.”

There are strong emotions flooding the bond, all coming from Shiro at the sound of Keith saying his first name, but it’s the essence of love, unconditional, cosmic. Keith arches, offering Shiro his own neck and Shiro takes his time to kiss it first before gently biting down. It’s a different kind of pain, and the mark rests only a few inches shy of Keith’s old scar there but it soothes away quickly as he comes, moaning Shiro’s name in a rasp so unlike his voice.

They don’t go for knotting so Keith pulls out as quickly as he can, actually impressed he has that much control over himself, and Shiro holds him through his climax, fisting Keith’s length, whispering sweet nothings into his ear as Keith all but slumps into Shiro, neither particularly caring for the mess.

It takes a while to come back from their high. Magic is taunt and Shiro’s fingers glow with residual quintessence, sending sparks and little stars dancing in the air around them. Like fireflies, little beacons just for the two of them but Keith loves that oddness, and Shiro kisses him again and again, settled to call him “baby” once he discovers just how much Keith likes that pet name.

 

* * *

 

The blizzard still rages outside, the wolf of a wind still howls, but Keith is warm again for the first time in many quintants, happy, busy savouring the way how Shiro’s fingers play with his braid.

“I love you, Takashi,” he murmurs.

“I love you too, Keith.”

He’s never dreamt he’d hear him say it, but here they are, in each other’s arms, naked in a tangle of blankets, kindling cracking quietly in the fireplace and the world outside is somewhere so far, far away. Keith dreads the moment the blizzard ends and they have to abandon this cabin. He doesn’t want to leave Shiro’s warmth. Not ever again.

Keith dozes off briefly, only to be awakened by Shiro going down on him, and he’s not ashamed to come so quickly at the sight of him between his legs. Keith doesn’t waste any time basking in the afterglow and flips Shiro over and lays him ever so gently on his stomach, his own body still trembling after his high. Keith takes his sweet time worshiping every scar and mole and beauty mark on the broad expanse of his back, peppering kisses all over and teasing him, slipping his hand lower and lower until his fingers work on his leaking entrance again, Shiro reduced to a whimpering mess, not shy from telling Keith how good that feels yet still urging him on and on, meeting each of his thrusts with greedy ones of his own until Keith snaps, hard again, and buries himself in Shiro to the hilt.

Shiro yelps in surprise at first but Keith still can see the pleased, self-satisfied grin he flashes and Keith makes it his priority to watch it transform into pure bliss, lips parted, panting, only for Keith.

It’s odd, the possessiveness. It’s foreign. But Shiro is his just as much as he is Shiro’s. It’s how it’s meant to be.

Shiro comes first, grunting Keith’s name in a happy little whimper, his throat a little busted after taking Keith in so deep before, Keith follows him over the edge a few frantic, desperate thrusts later.

 

* * *

 

They spend the entire night like this – talking and making love to each other by the fireplace, Shiro so complacent at first but growing bolder, testing their boundaries, figuring out how to fit their puzzle together, Keith always welcoming him, always asking for permission because Shiro is sacred to him. Keith comes the hardest the time when Shiro rides him, all his glory on display for Keith. There has never been a man more beautiful than Shiro.

They trace their new marks with kisses, memorising their shapes and texture, wondering at the reaction of their fellow Paladins once they find out and ending up laughing until their bellies hurt imagining their faces.

Shiro is happy. Keith can see that in every little detail. Unhurried lovemaking and Keith's attentions seem to help Shiro through the heat, though he's still unsated, still longing for Keith hour after hour until they both are so exhausted they pass out cuddled up on the bed – they have moved there when Keith has finally snapped, his whole body aching, especially his knees, after spending so much time fucking on the floor.

In the morning, Keith disentangles himself from Shiro's a bit possessive grip and goes out into the still raging blizzard to check on the horses and sniff around, trying to see any changes in the weather but all he gets is boots full of snow and his teeth chattering. Keith has to force himself to get more kindling and check on the protective spells around their little haven before he heads back to Shiro.

He's up already, cooking again, and, for once, wearing a shirt. Keith hurries to close the door behind himself and make as little mess as possible as he dumps the kindling ungracefully by the door and Shiro pads over to help him undress.

“How was it?” Shiro murmurs softly, nuzzling into Keith's neck once he unties his scarf and Keith shrugs off his cloak.

“Cold. Damp. Lots of snow, I could barely walk. Yorak and Black are okay— Uh, Shiro—”

It's hard to form coherent thoughts when Shiro proceeds to kiss into Keith's neck, finding his new mark, teeth scraping over it as his fingers work to undo Keith's jacket.

“Love, can I at least take off my boots?” Keith grunts out, unable to deny the immediate effect Shiro's ministrations have on him.

Shiro looks him in the eye, so much desire pooling in their grey. With one more kiss, open-mouthed and positively dirty, Shiro lets go of Keith and stalks back to conjuring up a meal out of their sparse supplies. Keith sighs, a little breathless, and makes quick work of tidying up in the room, wondering briefly at the way how much warmer he is this time despite having been outside for nearly a varga. As if Shiro's acceptance and love have given Keith's inner fire that final spark it needed to ignite. He's a long journey away from casting fire spells without dreading them but when he tends to the fireplace, just out of curiosity, he outstretches his fingers towards the flames and wills them to burn stronger.

The flames listen. Keith has control. When Shiro comes over, he gasps at the sight of Keith playing with fire, making little figures and shapes out of it.

“This is incredible, Keith. I'm—” Shiro trails off, grinning at the sight of two fire lions, one violet, the other red, playing together in the room.

“I thought I could never do this,” Keith murmurs, smiling, too, “but whatever it is – going to my Lion or bonding with you – I feel as if I've found something. Inner peace or... I don't know.”

The violet lion comes to hover before Shiro until hesitantly he lifts his hand to scratch the tiny lion under the chin and laughs at Keith's panicked protest.

“Baby, it’s alright. It's not burning me, look!”

“How the—”

“It’s all you, Keith,” Shiro says, so much pride in his voice as Keith tries and fails to wrap up his mind about the fact. “C’mon, try it.”

Shiro steps into Keith's space, wrapping his arms around Keith as he pulls him closer into his chest and Keith sighs at the strong body pressing into him, unable to stop himself from grinding his ass into Shiro's crotch briefly before focusing as innocently as possible on what Shiro is trying to show him. He likes to be called a tease, though, and he communicates just that down their bond. Shiro groans lowly into Keith's ear and the sound spreads all over Keith.

Keith doesn't get to act on the urge to turn in Shiro's arms and kiss him – the red fire lion finally deems it acceptable to approach Keith as the violet has Shiro, and now Shiro gently guides Keith's hand to pet the lion. Keith swallows down hard, knees going weak beneath him and he's glad for Shiro nuzzled so close into him – to touch a fire created of him is a test Keith hasn't been anticipating, but—

It's like spreading your hands before a bonfire. The lion is warm and Keith's definitely touching _something_ as his finger scratches gingerly beneath the fire lion's chin.

“Woah.”

“It’s all you, Keith,” Shiro repeats, kissing sweetly Keith's scarred cheek.

 

* * *

 

The Paladins eat together on the bed, both frowning at the white wall of snow outside. Keith shares his concerns at the sparse food supplies they have left and once again brings up the need to go hunt, especially since Shiro needs all the strength he can get now. Keith even tries to coax Shiro to take some of his dried meat but he flat out refuses. It makes Keith feel even worse. Shiro's heat isn't over, neither has any idea how long it will take to calm, and the snowstorm outside isn't getting any better.

“Keith, don't worry,” Shiro says, guiding Keith back into his lap once both are done with their meal. “We’ve been in a lot worse situations than this. We just have to wait it out.”

Keith sighs into the crook of Shiro's neck, fingers tracing the mark he's left on him.

“I’m glad to be stuck with you, Takashi.”

“I’d never trade this mission for anything else. Being out here, all alone with you for so long—It’s perfect. Our lives as Paladins of Voltron really do take their toll on the time we get to just... be ourselves.”

“Oh, so you don't actually mind this whole, potentially life-threatening mess we're in?” Keith teases, and Shiro rolls his eyes.

“Yes, Keith, I very much enjoy it.”

“I’ve got a kinky mate, huh-“

Keith yelps when Shiro pounces, pinning him down on the bed, straddling him.

“And I plan to show you just how kinky I am,” Shiro purrs, tearing at Keith's shirt until the fabric rips.

“Shiro, you owe me like two shirts now!” Keith laughs out but the wicked grin Shiro flashes at him makes something different stir within Keith, a challenge he's more than ready to face.

“You’re mine, Keith,” Shiro says, and Keith's eyes widen at the sight of magic glowing on Shiro's fingertips, a light touch of it alone making all Keith's senses spark and rebel and he's so hard it's almost painful and he pleads for Shiro, completely at his will.

Later, after both have come several times and Shiro finally sighs in relief, stretching besides Keith, slumbering, Keith is out of breath staring at him.

 _I love you_ , Keith whispers down their bond and curls around Shiro's tired frame, pulling him in close. _I love you so much._

 

* * *

 

By the evening of that quintant, Shiro is feeling much better, even his body temperature finally begins to return to the normal ranges. As if in answer to that, the ever-howling wind outside quietens down. Keith dares to go out for a moment and returns bringing news of the storm calming down. It still snows but the worst of the blizzard seems to have passed.

“We could go hunting tomorrow,” Shiro says cheerfully. Keith raises a sceptical brow at him.

“We?”

Shiro shrugs somewhat sheepishly. “I guess I'm feeling better. If anything, we can return to our mission soon enough.”

“The snow might be a problem. All roads are likely blocked, and the terrain is difficult enough to navigate already as it is.”

“We’ll figure something out, Keith.” Shiro raises his flesh hand, his eyes flashing in violet, his clenched fist sparkling with intense magic. Keith is beyond mesmerised by the sight. “You’re not the only one to feel stronger from our bond.”

“What do you mean?”

“I feel like my Lion is telling me something. A constant presence at the back of my mind. There's you, too, your thoughts and feelings are always with me,” Keith blushes at that. His thoughts and feelings are mostly focused on Shiro, and he somewhat dreads to find out just how much has he shouted down their bond. It does stay active all the time, and Keith is still adjusting to it, though he welcomes this kind of a link to Shiro with every fibre of his being. “My Lion, however, wants us to move on with our mission in a few days. We're running short of time.”

Concern and somewhat guilt sparkle down the bond, and Keith hisses. “Shiro, you can't be serious. You can't just blame yourself for the heat, of all things. It's good that it happened. It means that your body has finally worked out whatever poison was forced upon you back during the Galran captivity.”

There's enough fire in Keith words for Shiro to look up at him with emotions so deep in his expression, Keith's already impossibly soft for Shiro heart melts a little more at the sight of it.

“Keith—”

“Look. We'll do our best to get to the Blade of Marmora, but if we fail - don't you ever dare blaming yourself for it, Shiro,” Keith says firmly, his hand finding Shiro's and closing in around it. “We can try again later. We can ask Thace and Ulaz to bring the Blades to _us._ We can be the ones offering the alliance. I know Princess Allura might be hesitant about inviting an entire host of Galra rebels to her Castle, it still doesn't mean that she won't do it.”

“Keith, we need this alliance now. We can't delay any longer. Zarkon is pressing on our borders, he's already conquered nearly a half of the continent.”

“I know. I also know we won't fail our Princess.” Keith guides Shiro's hand to rest against Keith's chest, right above his heart. “You’re my leader, Shiro. I'll do anything in my power to win this fight. For you, for Allura, for all the people Zarkon threatens.”

Shiro’s eyes are suspiciously wet. He exhales, as if invisible weight is finally lifted off of his shoulders, and presses his forehead against Keith's.

He sighs again, his lashes fluttering briefly before he closes his eyes. “I have a plan,” he says. “It’s risky, way too much risky, but deep down I know we can do this.”

“Mhm?”

“We’re both Lions of Voltron now. Do you remember the legends of old? How the Lions could do magic no one has ever dreamed of before?”

“Of course I do. Coran tells them so well.”

“The thing is...” Shiro makes a deep breath, nuzzling into Keith a little closer, his broad palm pressing  a little harder on Keith's chest as if he needs the steady beat of Keith's heart beneath to reassure himself. “I want us to open a wormhole.”

“What?!” Keith startles, pulling away from Shiro just enough to be able to see his face. There's steel, determination in his mate's eyes, though quite different from how it used to be. Laced by strength outside of this world. Infinite. It pours into Keith, finding its way into him through the cracks in his composure, through his admittance of a chance of a failure.

“We can open a wormhole, Keith, just like the Princess can. I can feel my Lion talking to me, sharing the knowledge on how to do it. I know I'm strong enough for this. My bond with the Spirit of the Sky has reached beyond what I ever thought to be possible for a human Paladin to achieve and—”

“But how? How do you know this? Will I be able to follow you?”

Shiro's eyes flash with violet again and suddenly, Keith is very aware of something ancient looking at him through Shiro, too. He feels a sibling to that infinite spirit answer from within Keith and Shiro gasps, then grins at the sight of Keith’s eyes glowing with red in answer to his Lion’s call.

“That's what I was talking about. Your Lion knows what to do, too, Keith.”

Keith trembles slightly, flashes of memories, so foreign to him, so endless, pouring into his mind. He has thought he’s bonded with his Lion already, and has been determined it will remain a one-time occurrence, yet the Spirit of Fire purrs and shows him the glyphs for a wormhole, shows work-arounds and cheats and what to do, how to pinpoint the exit coordinate, how to hold the tunnel.

“I—I see it, Shiro,” Keith whispers, tears running down his cheeks.

“I know. I love you, Keith. I'm so proud of you,” Shiro laughs out, so happy, and kisses him again. Keith answers, pulling him in close, pressing their bodies into each other and their Lions purr, content, and let them have their moment.

Their moment quickly gets too heated anyway.

Keith and Shiro tumble to the bed, barely having enough time to take their clothes off, too hungry for each other again, kissing frantically, Shiro taking the lead. Keith loses himself in the sight of Shiro, his cheeks flushed again, though the skin beneath Keith's fingers isn't as hot as it has been at the peak of Shiro's heat. There is still that wild fire in Shiro's eyes, all-consuming and demanding, the love between them sparkling and bright. Shiro kisses a trail down the column of Keith's throat, down his chest, tongue flicking over his nipples and Keith arches into the touch, a wild thought crossing his mind.

“Shiro, can you—”

“Yeah, baby?”

“Can you fuck me?”

Shiro blinks then looks up at Keith. There's no denying the arousal in his face at the thought, the way how Shiro's tongue wets his pink lips, but he still looks worried enough. “We hardly have any lube for you, baby. Alphas aren't quite—built for this as omegas are.”

“I- uh— I know,” Keith stutters. “I don't mind the pain. I still want you in me.”

“Keith, it doesn't have to hurt. I've got you. We'll just—have to be careful, and slow it down.” Shiro glances around the room. “Besides, we’ve never really looked properly through this cabin. Maybe there’s some kind of lube around. This place stinks of males.”

“That’s probably us,” Keith laughs out but lets Shiro leave his arms, opting to watch Shiro’s gorgeous, naked form move around the room, checking the cabinets in the kitchen more thoroughly though finding nothing useful until Keith points at the drawer they’ve neglected all the time before. Shiro snorts, padding over. He murmurs his apologies to whomever this place belongs to and opens the top drawer, looking through various personal items and notebooks. He doesn’t let himself to look inside – always so respectful – and moves over to the next drawer. Keith begins to lose hope of them finding anything. He can wait, after all, until they get back to civilisation. It’s adorable, however, to watch Shiro be so hell-bend on pleasing Keith he actually goes sniffing through someone's personal items.

Keith huffs, murmuring under his breath, and falls back into the pillow. “Shiro, it’s okay if there’s nothing there.”

Shiro exhales, rummaging through the drawer a few moments more and pads back to Keith, climbing back onto the bed. Keith’s eyes are closed, and he feels so tired. Admitting to the fact he doesn’t really fit into the stereotypical alpha standards is liberating now that he has this kind of intimacy with Shiro there’s no point in denying it. There’s also no point denying the dynamics between them, how they treat each other as equals. Inherently, alphas are always in charge, omegas are always below them. Keith hates that easy acceptance of disrespect and power imbalance within couples. He’s never treated anyone based on his status of an alpha like the others have, like they are the kings of the world.

He's just Keith. The Red Paladin of Voltron, yes, but he's never let it go to his head.

Keith often wonders how it is like for the Blades of Marmora. The splinter cell of the Galra Empire, they have worked as assassins and spies for centuries, remaining off the charts for everyone but the select few allies. They are a tight-lipped, gruesome society, though Keith treats them as an autonomous kingdom of sorts, or at least a city-state, so developed and deviant seem their culture and traditions, let alone mannerisms.

How do mates work there? How is the bond accepted? Do they mate for life, or it’s just for a couple of years like in some other kingdoms on Arus? Do they marry?

Thace and Ulaz rubbed Keith an awful lot like a mated couple though he still couldn’t tell which role each is having but now he has finally figured out why. They are equals in every right, their scents mixed together to form a single one, unique to them. It’s how he wants it to be with Shiro. How it is supposed to be.

Shiro’s artificial hand is on Keith’s belly, drawing patterns on his skin. Keith purrs into the touch, instantly relaxed beneath it. He’s almost dozing off when he feels something slick and chilly brush his skin and he hisses, jerking up.

“Shiro, what the—Oh.”

Shiro is grinning at him wickedly, his flesh fingers dripping with transparent liquid. He shows Keith a small capped bottle, his brow arched suggestively.

“Look what I’ve found.”

“What is this?” Keith asks, snatching the bottle from Shiro’s hands and sniffing at it suspiciously.

“It’s a balm out of those rare herbs that grow in the southern hemisphere. I’ve seen them in Lady Holt’s garden – quite a hard thing to forget. The plants are beautiful.”

“Why— You’ve found it?”

“Yeah. As I’ve said, this cabin reeks of males,” Shiro laughs out. “Coleen told me enough of the plants and their—applications, so to say.” Keith still doesn’t look convinced, dipping his finger into the viscous substance. “It’s lube, Keith.”

“That’s the weirdest bit of luck I’ve ever had in my entire life,” Keith admits, enjoying the soothing chill of the balm.

Shiro laughs, leaning over and kissing Keith. “Don’t ever change, baby.”

Keith grins, kissing up into Shiro’s mouth, drinking in his taste. He’ll never get enough of it, not in this life, not in any other. Keith arches into his man, spreading his legs for him, enjoying the sight of Shiro’s face, the adoration there as he treasures Keith, the vulnerability with which he presents himself to him. Keith has never done something like this before, and even if he’s just a bit nervous, he knows Shiro and how gentle he is.

“Keith, are you sure about this?”

“Yeah. I- I want you so badly, Takashi. Fuck me.”

Shiro’s mouth is agape, and he takes a moment just to take in Keith's words, as if to etch them in his memory.

Shiro’s hard, leaking already and Keith knows just how much Shiro still needs the release. It might be true his heat is calming down, though it still doesn’t mean it’s going easy on him. They didn’t even have any potions to give Shiro to ease it for him. He’s braved it anyway. Without knotting, without any means to be comfortable, to have a proper nest and enough food to compensate all the burnt calories.

Keith whimpers, his own arousal taking hold of him, body welcoming Shiro’s caresses, how his hands glide and explore and Keith is a mess already, fisting at Shiro’s hair and begging for more.

Shiro smiles, attentive, completely selfless as he explores Keith’s body, each time like the first time, worshiping him with his tongue, getting him so pumped up Keith fears he might come just from one more kiss, one more lick of Shiro’s delicious, filthy tongue. Keith succumbs to Shiro’s artificial fingers on his length, his flesh ones dripping of lube as he slicks down Keith’s entrance, both a little breathless when the first digit slides in.

“Please, Shiro—“ Keith gasps. He’s aroused enough not to feel any discomfort, whatever the miracle that lube is making him almost as slick as Shiro has been, and Shiro works him so well, so lovingly, Keith begs for more with each gasp he makes until Shiro gives in and adds a second finger. That, Keith feels, but he adjust to him easily, Shiro’s artificial hand supporting his thigh and Shiro kisses Keith’s knee, murmuring how good he is, encouraging him with every word. It’s not like Keith has never fingered himself before to the thought of Shiro – actually doing this with him is a completely new experience. Shiro is a tall, strong man, and his long fingers are much thicker than those of Keith’s. When Shiro dares for the third, Keith whimpers, and Shiro immediately stops, asking Keith if everything is alright, if he hasn’t hurt him.

“No, love, it’s alright,” Keith breathes out, “I just need a second to catch my breath.”

“If anything makes you uncomfortable – tell me, alright? I don’t want to hurt you, baby. Not ever,” Shiro whispers, leaning over to plant heartfelt kisses on Keith’s lips. They don’t break apart for a long while, and Keith is the one to begin moving on Shiro’s fingers, eliciting sweet sounds of surprise out of him.

Shiro is careful with Keith, ever so gentle, it takes Keith’s impatience to take hold of him to get Shiro slick down his thick cock and slide inside, inch by inch until he’s buried in Keith to the hilt, both gasping for air at the new sensations. Keith moans Shiro’s name out loud, arching into him, his legs and arms thrown around Shiro’s broad frame as he brings him closer, closer, closer. Encouraged by Keith’s eager thrusts, Shiro begins to move inside him. Slow at first, hesitant even, but growing bolder, confident.

“I’ve—never topped before,” Shiro admits after a few experimental thrusts that get Keith clawing at the strong muscles in his back.

“Well, I’ve obviously—ah—never bottomed before.”

“Do you think we’re doing good?” he asks, such a goofy, adorable smile on his lips, white locks of hair sticking to his forehead.

Keith manages to give Shiro a look while riding the pleasure that not at all is mixed with pain he’s been expecting. If anything, the powerful thrusts of the man he loves drive him closer and closer to the edge.

“You’re certainly doing me good—“

Shiro blinks briefly before bursting out laughing, the sound so precious to Keith he chases it with his lips, drinking it all in as Shiro changes angle just so and sends sparks of pleasure skittering over Keith’s senses. He's so thick inside of him. He’s not aware of what he transmits down their bond but Shiro’s low, guttural moan is his undoing.

“That’s how it feels like?” Keith gasps out, his climax dawning upon him faster than ever before.

“Yeah, baby. Every time you’re fucking me, it’s this good.”

Wet sounds of their lovemaking, gasps and low groans, Shiro’s teeth finding Keith’s bonding mark again and closing in on it, biting down gently—It’s almost too much for Keith’s soul. He arches his back and Shiro buries his face in his pectorals, feasting on his flesh as if it’s his only salvation.

If Keith can be that to him – be the one to drive away the demons that haunt Shiro’s sleep, the remnants of horrors he had to endure – then so be it. Shiro has been Keith’s guiding light for so long, Keith can’t imagine his life without him now.

He wants to do well. He wants to do right. He wants Shiro healed and whole again, free in full from the Galran captivity, in every sense.

“Shiro, you’re so good. My—My—“

Keith comes, intense, shuddering all over, barely aware of the magical blast erupting from him, and Shiro doesn’t last much longer, coming inside of Keith in hot shots that somehow give Keith the kind of deep, soul-felt satisfaction he practically purrs.

Shiro buries his nose in the crook of Keith’s neck, breathing hard. It takes Keith a moment to realise he’s actually sobbing, and the wetness on his shoulder is his tears.

“Takashi, what’s wrong?”

Keith’s fingers are in his hair, soothing him, his mind reaching out to him through the bond until finally, with a deep exhale, Shiro finds the strength to look Keith in the eye.

“I’ve never dreamed of having a mate as good and loving and loyal as you, Keith,” Shiro whispers. “I-- I've never expected to be treated like this, to be even allowed to touch you this way and—“

“Uh oh. No. Wait. Listen.”

Keith sits up, belatedly realising Shiro is still inside him so there's a little rustle – a skirmish, even, because Shiro pouts and protests against Keith freeing himself – but Keith needs to make him listen.

“I'll never treat you any less than as my equal, Shiro,” Keith says firmly, his entire self focused on Shiro, at the way how his expression shifts beneath the realisation of what Keith is meaning. “I don't care for social standards and norms we are expected to follow. I don't care that I'm an alpha and you're an omega.” Keith's voice gains strength at the sight of Shiro's smile, hesitant at first but lighting up with each confession Keith utters. It's like breaching those very last walls and barriers that might have existed between them, destroying them, til finally, truly, no space lies in between them. “I’ve always loved you, Shiro, I always will. Treating you with respect and showing you how much you mean to me - that's what I want to do. To be good for you, to be the one to bring you joy and happiness and adventure and none of it can possibly come out of treating you like— like society expects me to. Fuck it. I don't care for _them_ , I care for _you.”_

Shiro still cries, tears rolling down his cheeks and Keith catches those tears on his fingers, wiping away the salty droplets with zeal, with love, with longing.

“Is- Is it going too fast if I really want to ask you to marry me, Keith?” Shiro manages, both of his hands on Keith's, as they stare, wide-eyed, at each other and Keith swears the whole world shifts, the stars realign themselves to witness this moment, to celebrate it.

“It's not, Takashi. All I ever wanted—Spending a life with you—Yes. Yes. _Yes_.”

Shiro kisses him, salt on their lips as both cry, happy beyond words and Shiro is murmuring down the bond, little fond endearments and love confessions and they kiss and kiss and kiss, unhurried moving of lips and tongues and teeth, both content to savour the moment, to etch it into each other's hearts.

When Shiro breaks away, gulping for air and blushing heavily and his hair a mess from Keith's fingers -- it's the sight so beautiful, so dear, Keith all but coaxes his love to lie down, curling protectively around him once Shiro settles, his head resting on Keith’s chest, both humming in deep content.

 

* * *

 

The morning of the next quintant brings sunlight and hope for the Paladins. Shiro is feeling much better –after some lazy, unhurried and sweet lovemaking after they woke up, he's more than eager to get going with their day. Yorak and Black are more than thrilled to be finally free of the confines of the stable and both stallions play in the snow until Shiro and Keith join them, laughing together and starting a snowball fight Shiro is determined to win.

Afterwards, when Keith has had a face-first contact with snow and retaliated by dumping a small mountain on Shiro's head, the Paladins set off to hunt and observe the effects of the blizzard.

Shiro sighs and admits that they indeed might need to wormhole - there's so much snow they can hardly see the mountain path they were on before. This time, however, Keith believes in their success with his whole heart.

The cabin is in a sorry state after their stay and neither lets themselves leave any mess behind so after returning from the successful hunt and eating, the men clean up the entire cabin, making sure to put everything in place, though do having to use magic to clean the ruined sheets and blankets. At least they are leaving no trace behind except for a half-empty bottle of lube.

“Perhaps we could leave a thank-you note?” Shiro ponders, folding neatly the crisply-clean blankets as Keith dusts off the floor.

“What do you want to say? Hey, sorry we fucked on every surface in your house?” Keith chuckles and Shiro blushes violently, though there is a challenge to him as he points at the small table in the kitchen.

“Not _every—”_

Keith smirks. “Well, we haven't left yet. It isn't too late to fix that.”

There is wild hunger in Shiro's eyes again and he pounces before Keith can quite brace himself before his assault.

They don't, however, end up ruining that table – it wouldn't have survived it otherwise. Shiro compensates by pressing Keith against the wall and taking him into his mouth, working him all the way down his throat and it makes Keith's knees weak. He all but slumps, bracing himself against the wall with one hand while the other tangles up Shiro's soft hair.

Later, when both are sated and have cleaned up, they pack and leave, closing the cabin's door behind them, left with fond memories of the little haven that shielded them from a storm and led them through a little adventure of confessing their true feelings for each other.

They ride for a while through the forest, searching for a clearing big enough to host their Lion's ritual. Shiro recounts the landmarks Thace and Ulaz have drilled into their minds and Keith exclaims the moment he notices the ancient oak, all too familiar to him because of Thace's descriptions.

“Shiro, look!”

He rides to the tree, completely stunned, Shiro following with hopeful grin on his face.

“Incredible. We've skipped quite a few landmarks, Keith, but this is the right path. I—I know where we are.”

Shiro gets off Black, muttering to himself as he rummages through the bags and finds Pidge's chronometer. The device is tiny and laced with golden Altean symbols, and Keith's heart swells at the sight of Shiro so excited and focused as he works out the readings.

“We’re way too behind the schedule, baby,” Shiro finally says after a few moments, glancing at Keith. “The snow _will_ slow us down, we won't make it on time if we don't wormhole.”

“Do you want to do it now, Shiro?”

“Yeah. While we know our precise location. We can't wormhole right to the portal gate, however. It might disturb and interfere with its magic.”

“Makes sense. How about we go right to the marked location before it?”

“Possible. Thankfully, Thace and Ulaz weren't cryptic about it.”

“Let’s do this.”

Keith jumps off Yorak, landing smoothly on the snow. Shiro takes his hand and guides him to a perfect spot, the ancient oak right behind their backs as they open themselves to their Lions, to each other, to the energy within and around. Their cloaks flap in the breeze, Keith's braid in the way again but it's Shiro who tenderly brushes it aside as they begin to cast, guided by their Lions.

There's also a presence with them, Keith has no doubts on that.

 _Do you feel that, Takashi?_ he asks, weaving in spell after spell, focusing on their destination.

 _This energy... It's like—I think it's Voltron itself,_ Shiro murmurs and Keith knows he's right. The Legendary Defender all the Paladins are tied to, united with the awesome being not of this world.

Its presence gives strength.

They build the wormhole from nothing but their sheer dedication to their duty, somewhat mixed with guilt for straying for all those days during the blizzard but now more than ever ready to continue on their mission.

Magic twirls and roars, and when Keith dares to open his eyes and have a better look at Shiro, he's so sharp, strong-jawed, eyes sparkling in the supernatural violet glow. Shiro is looking at him with infinite warmth, his gaze promising success and tenderness and victory and love.

That's the man Keith is going to marry the moment they get back from the mission. They have talked it through. Neither wants to wait for the War to end for this. Having kids – yes, that will come later, when they both are assured to be bringing new life into a peaceful world, where their children will be safe and happy, not threatened by Zarkon or Haggar or anyone else.

Their fellow Paladins and Allura and Coran won't let them get away with the marriage for a long time. The Princess will demand a large ceremony, and Lance will always be at her side, deflecting any of Shiro's and Keith's attempts to change their minds in favour of a smaller ceremony as Allura will come up with the most romantic setting possible for their wedding. Pidge and Hunk will be thrilled, teasing them till the end of time and never shutting up over how it took them this many years to finally act on their feelings. Coran will cry. A lot. And he will bless their marriage and be their confidant and tell the story of their love in beautiful, kind words to anyone who'd ask.

And they will be happy. Together, equals in every sense of the word. It won't stop Keith from looking up to Shiro or admiring him and his leadership skills. He'll always be his right hand – his rightful, hard-earned place.

Shiro is his universe.

Magic pierces through the fabric of space and time and Keith purrs – or is it his Lion? – at the sight of a path forming to their destination. Shiro grins, lifting his arms as a beautiful, enormous glyph forms between their fingers, glowing gently with a tint of blue so close to the cyan of their Princess's eyes.

“Are you ready, Keith?” Shiro asks, wind from the wormhole playing in his hair.

Keith takes his hands in his, kissing the artificial knuckles and then his human ones.

“I'm all in.”

They return to their horses, leading them to the wormhole. Shiro talks to Black, explaining to him what they are about to do and Keith does the same for Yorak, patting his strong neck and reassuring that everything will be alright.

They step into the wormhole simultaneously, holding hands and leading their horses by the reins.

The walls of the wormhole are laced with stars, of all things, moving on and on at the incredible speed. Shiro is awed, staring at it all with so much wonder and joy Keith knows that now he'll be making wormholes all the time just to witness beauty like this.

It's a surprisingly short walk – they have hardly been in the tunnel longer than five doboshes and already there is an exit point before them. Keith winks at Shiro and, together, they step outside.

“Oh wow.”

“I’m—This is amazing—”

“Shiro, it worked! The fucking wormhole worked!” Keith laughs and yells and jumps into Shiro's arms to kiss him fiercely on the lips, both laughing and twirling and Shiro lifting Keith up into the air.

They've made it. The crook of the small spring, the fork of the road, the pine broken in half. The last landmark. The portal gate is less than half a quintant's journey from here.

“Now we are too early,” Shiro laughs. We have nearly twenty-eight vargas before the portal opens.”

“We’ll find something to keep us busy,” Keith purrs into Shiro's ear and the man shivers, his fingers finding their way into Keith's hair and he kisses him fiercely, over and over until Keith forgets how to breathe, his legs wrapped tightly around Shiro's narrow waist.

 

* * *

 

At some point, Keith begins to suspect that Thace and Ulaz have planned this mission specifically for them. There is no other explanation for how impactful in has turned out to be – and the Paladins are yet to reach the Blade of Marmora base.

Shiro shares some similar thoughts on the subject, pointing out the details that have slipped from Keith's attention before but it only makes them both realise that the Blades have seen right through them and decided to give them a chance to act on their feelings, alone with each other for so many quintants. Of course, there is a lot of work ahead – but together as a unit Shiro and Keith are unstoppable, they both know that in their very bones now.

Keith huffs as they approach the location of the portal gate, both happy they've made it in time after so many delays and inconveniences, a fight with a troll and a heat and a blizzard.

Keith gingerly sneaks a hand beneath his scarf, touching the mark on his neck left there by Shiro's teeth. It's a reassurance, a promise, a bond.

Keith is about to walk into the base his mother was – or still is – a part of. Shiro's hand is on his waist, broad enough to cover the most of it and Keith honestly can never stop kinking out at their size difference alone.

“Keith?” Shiro murmurs as they both feel magic foreign to them sparkle into life, forming a small, at first transparent but gaining colour, gate to the Blade of Marmora.

Keith grins, tilting his head to Shiro so that he leans in and claims his lips, so gentle and reassuring and _his_.

“I love you, Takashi. With my whole heart.”

Shiro beams, happy tears sparkling on his lashes like little drops of liquid starlight.

“I love you too, Keith. You're my stars, my sunshine, my universe.”

The portal gate opens, and they walk through it hand in hand, bonded and strong.

True Paladins of Voltron, in all their glory.

**Author's Note:**

> this fic turned out to be very dear to me and escalated from planned 10k into this 20k giant of a one shot but i've enjoyed working on it way too much to be bothered. maybe some day there will be part 2, who knows.  
> here's [a bonus illustration](https://voidslantern.tumblr.com/post/181374585031/20k-one-shot-abo-dynamics-fantasy-au) for this fic, too 
> 
> as always, find me on [tumblr](https://voidslantern.tumblr.com) or @ [ pillowfort](https://pillowfort.io/voidslantern) or @ [twitter](https://twitter.com/voidslantern).  
> have wonderful holidays everyone! see you next year! ♥


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